Shortly after lunch, Henny remarked from the courtyard, isn't it getting cloudy? In the same instant her sense of smell kicked in -- it's smoke. Soon we heard the distinct droning of the fire-fighting planes. We followed the scarily huge plume of smoke up a nearby hill. We were the first up, followed closely by an elderly French lady, and soon enough by many others. The smoke, aided by winds of 50 km/h, could be seen for miles around, yet much of the fire was right outside our village. We haven't had any significant rainfall of late. The countryside is tinder dry. The orange flames and the mammoth effort to fight them unfolded before our eyes. More and more planes were arriving, flying closely overhead. As they dipped into the valley to pour water on the fire, they seemed near enough to make you duck your head. I've never been closer to a plane of that size flying overhead. Not just the usual Canadairs either, there were Dash-8's which look as big as the 737 that's my regular ride home.
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| From Midi Libre |
The effort to combat the fire was immense. Pompiers from throughout the region came. Sirens, helicopters, and at least a dozen planes. They continued battling for five hours. The fire destroyed about 50 hectares (c. 123 acres) of garrigue. There are some homes scattered in its path, but fortunately none of them were damaged and no one was hurt. The brave firefighters worked hard. Their annual Christmas calendar will sell well 'round these parts; they take good care of us! As I write this account the next day, there are still regular passes of helicopters making sure all's well.
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| J de P's picture from Chateau de Cassan |
